


Little Death

by AdriftInWriting



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Amelie gets some bullshit, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Dreams and Nightmares, Emily is a friend to Tracer, F/F, Hallucinations, No Plot/Plotless, Slow Romance, Trauma, well Trauma and a Nightmare in one chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9673916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriftInWriting/pseuds/AdriftInWriting
Summary: Amélie and Lena spend the final few days before Christmas together, away from past troubles.





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a small series of ship-related work that branches off from the other, much longer fic I worked on. There's not much plot revolved around this series, but minor references will be mentioned.
> 
> For specific people: If you've come here expecting an OT3 build-up with Widow/Tracer/Emily, you've come to the wrong place. This is very much a Widowtracer fic, and will always remain a Widowtracer fic.
> 
> Tags will be updated as time passes and chapters are written in.

It was only four days left until Christmas would arrive, and Lena was more than excited to share some private time with Amélie following her official hearing of being acquitted of charges against her political assassinations. As of recent, her apartment received a major overhaul. Rather, her apartment is now a loft. It was a loft near the Westminster district fit for three; though the third room was more of a guest area or a recreational one for just about anything. The view of Big Ben was astounding in Lena’s own personal space, and the people were kind enough to digitally simulate the gorgeous view of Eiffel Tower in Paris just for Amélie’s personal viewing should she desire a change of surroundings. Snow had covered London, and the crime rate/Human-on-Omnic hate crimes had strangely lowered itself over the past couple of weeks.

Amélie was home alone in the loft. She had a fireplace lit and it crackled as she sat cozy and comfortable in a sofa. Her red sweater kept her warm, as did her hot chocolate sitting on a warming plate. Her eyes were closed, for she was taking a very light nap, a little tired of waiting for Lena to return home. The book  _ **'Fuck les régimes!**_ **(Fuck the diet!)** _ **’**_ by Chloé Hollings had been bookmarked by her and it was casually placed on the coffee table a few feet away from Amélie.

She daydreamed about the world of ballet-dancing, as awkward as that was. She had quit ballet lessons when she studied in Paris, taking lessons in piano to compensate. Amélie was alone on the stage and the spotlight moved wherever she did. There was no crowd, and there was only the faint sound of classical music in the distance. As she spun around in an arabesque, the sound of music became louder, and then the lights were more radiant. There she was, now on the biggest stage of her dreams while millions had tuned in to watch.

They cheered when the woman finished her routine. She had opened her eyes and smiled warmly, curtsying as a bouquet of lilacs and roses fell down to her feet. She saw her hands - they were creamy white and not blue; warm and ever so soft to the touch. It was surreal, being on stage because she had given up this dream so long ago. Flowers were being endlessly thrown still as the curtain closed. She turned around to go backstage and take off her corset and get out of that uncomfortable contraption, but as she was heading to her makeup room, there she was. It was Lena standing with her own set of roses and awkwardly trying to act cool.

She took the roses off of the young girl's hands. Lena was blushing immensely and bit her lower lip as Amélie crept in with a warm smile. With her free hand, she made Lena look at her in the eyes. 

Outside in the real world however, Emily had been ringing the doorbell awaiting a response from the woman who was oblivious to the fact she had a guest. **“Hello? Anybody home?”** She pounded on the door, and that seemed to have gotten the resting spider’s attention. A satchel was strapped around her upper chest, and she held onto her earmuffs with one hand. She slowly opened up her eyelids and scratched her head, stumbling to get over to the door. Once it opened however, she rubbed on her left eye and cracked her neck.

 **“Oh. I didn’t realize you were coming. At least, not until tomorrow.”** She softly exhaled and beckoned the redheaded girl to come in, yawning while she turned around.  **“ _Fatigué d'attendre cette petite fille..._ (Tired of waiting for this little girl...)”** Amélie muttered to herself. It wasn’t really that bad, but she was mildly annoyed Lena wouldn’t want to come home already. They had plans, and right now Emily and Amélie had nothing else to do for the time being. The spider stretched her arms and legs before sitting down comfortably where she napped.

The freckled young girl snickered as she set down her earmuffs on the coffee table and the bag on the couch.  **“Guessin’ Lena ain’t home yet then? Out with a few drinks with the ‘lads’, yeah?”** She snickered again and threw her hands up in the air. It was typical for Lena to be out even if the time was special.  **“As much of a pillock as she is, and I told you, you can’t blame her for trying to keep up with old friends.”**

Amélie rolled her eyes and filled up another mug of hot chocolate while a holo-screen followed her around the house. It contained a list of groceries to buy and a conversation via text with  _‘Ma chérie’_ and a purple heart.  **“I don’t, and I’m more than happy to admit it. She could at least text me. Or call me. Something, anything!”** The woman took a sip of her hot chocolate, and Emily did the same and noticed the list of foodstuffs: delicate roasted turkey, Yorkshire Gingerbread pie (Lena’s favorite), Niçoise-style salad with winter ingredients, cinnamon spiced cream of potato soup, maple croutons for said soup, Idaho-grown mashed potatoes, grilled leg of lamb, the list went on and on, and it made the freckled girl a little hungry just reading them.

While Emily was reading the list of things one by one, Amélie began typing away at the screen with the keyboard.  ** _‘Where are you?’_** she had texted onto the screen, and the message was claimed to be sent almost immediately. She leaned back into her chair and noticed Emily reading her list. **"Most of this I bought earlier this morning. I've yet to update it, hence why it's open. Speaking of...would you be interested in joining us for dinner on Christmas Day?"** The blue-skinned woman had asked, and the redheaded girl nodded and grinned. She was going to ask Lena about it, but to be personally invited by Amélie was the next best thing.

There was an ellipsis that popped up for some time, but it took considerably longer for Lena to respond back. When it did, the message floated up just below Amélie’s message. It read, ‘sorry luv. make it up to u tonite. promise! xoxo.’ That was all the woman was going to get, it seemed. She was mildly irritated, yet Amélie brushed it off and rubbed her temple. It’d probably be best if, despite her annoyance at Lena, she’d just continue on the night as normal - just without her lover. She then turned her attention towards Emily.  **“I suppose you’ve wasted your time tonight. She’s not coming home until another couple of hours.”**

In response, the redheaded girl shrugged.  **“Honestly, mate, I came here just to spend the night with you two before I headed out. But...if Lena isn’t here, well...”** She nervously chuckled and set her hot chocolate down. **“Should I come back tomorrow evening, then? Y’know, when food’s here, I got my clothes and can hunker down, and both of you won’t be scuttling about elsewhere?”**

The blue-skinned woman pointed in the general vicinity of the hallway to the right. **“You may take the guest room if you desire to do so. You’ll...probably have to sleep in the same clothes.”** There wasn't really anything in the wardrobe that would fit Emily, much less anything in her style or taste either.

Quickly, Emily waved her hand in a gesture of  _‘no’_. She didn’t really like the notion of not having a fresh pair of clothes at the ready. She picked up her satchel bag, slinging it over her shoulder and searched for her phone. Emily was to call a cab, lest she walk in the cold roads of London alone. With the call made, she grinned over at Amélie.  **“Cab’s gonna be here in about two minutes. It was really nice just to talk with you!”**

Softly, the woman gave a small smile while Emily chuckled.  **“And here I thought when you were coming at me, fists clenched, you’d end me just ‘cause I dated Lena once.”** She muttered, and Amélie forced a laugh at what Emily had said, remembering the past two weeks when she had first met the girl at Gibraltar during the party.

 **“ _Non_ (No), I don’t hate you. I hate liars, or people who like to keep information from me.”** Amélie pointed at the door and then gestured at the redheaded girl, suggesting she should go.

With a swift nod, Emily opened up the door and was about to head out, but immediately turned around.  **“Oh and uh, Amélie?”** She grinned again, eyes darting around a little. There was a nervous tone in her voice as she swallowed. **“It’s not that Lena doesn’t give a toss, it’s just that her being gone in London and all, alongside with her friends and parents having to apologize while she makes amends...y’know.”** She pursed her lips, turned her cheek a little, and shrugged, unsure of what else to say past this point. **“She loves you, and you love her. Don’t forget that.”** Emily’s phone buzzed to notify her the taxi was here. She turned around and muttered  _ **‘Right.’**_ just before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

From then on, the night went on as per the norm. Amélie finished up her hot chocolate and let the two cups soak in warm water before the automated dish washing system kicked in. Rather than finish up her book, the woman sought to freshen herself up for the night and simply...prepare for dinner - even if it meant she’d have to eat it alone.

London fell silent as the hours passed. The mid-evening turned into the next morning at 1:00 A.M., much later than Amélie had anticipated. Lena creaked open the front door only to meet darkness. The loft illuminated itself briefly to guide the adventurer on her way around, and a faint scent of some of the left-over garlic soup lingered in the air. Though the loft never moved, Lena could see and hear the hovercars, the sirens from police cruisers, and the bright lights over the city as the view had been simulated into that of Paris for the night - perhaps out of comfort for the blue-skinned woman.

She was a little tipsy, but Lena was glad she could make it home safely. Even if it did mean spending more than she would’ve liked with her old friends at taverns, she had a great time and spent as much as she could catching up. Her accelerator watch gave a soft hum and blinked red, for her chronal amulet was running on emergency back-up power now. Cautiously, Lena moved to her own bedroom and took off her necklace. It clinked in her hands as she positioned it on a charging station.

Nobody was on her bed.  Amélie had chosen to stay in her own separate room for the night, perhaps out of spite or the fact the young girl took too long. Lena exited out of her own quarters and peeked over to the room down the corridors. The door was slightly open, and there she was, bare-back and turned away from the door. She was at peace, quietly slumbering away unaware her love had returned to her.

She was so beautiful in the young adventurer’s eyes. The moonlight out the window reflected onto her pale blue skin, and it just felt right. Not right because she was meant to be blue, but rather...right because she wasn’t in pain. She wasn't suffering, nor did she have any right to suffer anymore. She was home where she truly belonged, right in the arms of a simple 26-year-old girl trying to live her life while maintaining her widespread image. It felt right because Lena didn’t want to see her as something she wasn’t - and even after all they’ve gone through.

But then Lena remembered their small conversation earlier. She made a promise, although, for tonight, that promise wouldn’t be fulfilled. The young girl pursed her lips and moved away from the door. She couldn’t step into the slumbering spider’s room and expect to just climb in bed without much of a hitch. No, this was not going to be her plan for today because it'd be the wrong thing to do at the wrong time.

Lena was due a nice hot shower and a good night’s rest, and then tomorrow she could have all the time she could possibly want with her love. What mattered was that she made it home even if it wasn't on time, and that she could see Amélie. Yet, she kept blaming herself that she could've gone home earlier. She clenched her fist, a little angry at herself because she didn't want to muck about over this any further, and then moved back to the other end of the corridor, quietly closing the door to her quarters.


	2. Together

Lena groggily opened up her eyes, and her bedroom’s dimly lit windows began emitting light as the tint gradually faded. A selection of news articles, the time, and temperature popped up while the adventurer rose slowly from her bed.  
**“Ahh...god dammit...not again...”** She muttered, now a little in pain. She had a headache and a dry mouth as a result of her late-night gathering. Perhaps next time she could at least remember to get a glass of water just in case.  
Big Ben then tolled, and the time was now 10:00 A.M. in the morning. The weather seemed to be mildly snowing with an overcast of clouds as little sprinkles of white trickled down from the skies. Lena didn’t really bother with the news at the moment. Maybe later.

No more drinking for the rest of the week, Lena thought to herself. She tried her best to get out of bed, cautious not to trip or do anything stupid lest her headache gets worse via falling or dinging her head. Entering into the lavatories, she turned the faucet until there was warm water flowing down. The young girl splashed water on her face and rubbed her eyes as she blinked a few times.

While she was doing her duties, Amélie had been gone the hours before, for she was out grabbing that Gingerbread Pie for Lena. No typical convenience store actually sold the special type the young Oxton wanted, so a specialty order had been placed about a week beforehand. Today was the day it had been fully made to perfection, and thus the blue-skinned woman tasked herself to pick it up.

After freshening herself up with a quick morning shower and cleaning her teeth, Lena picked up her chronal amulet off of its stand and slung it over her neck. She dashed around her loft all the way back to the kitchen to fetch herself some cereal. There wasn’t much she could really eat since she didn’t feel like having some bread and nutella, or go all-out with fancier meal with sausages, brown beans, and black pudding.

As she poured out her flakes and poured milk, Lena opened up the holoscreen to check on the news she had neglected earlier. Nothing interesting really occurred today from the news article titles, but the big thing all around the news was that Talon had come under new management and that Overwatch’s big return overshadowed the former’s management issues. Other than that however, the second most interesting set of news was that an international peace rally between the Omnics and Humans was set to have a wide-spread march on January 15th in Numbani. It was expected that 700 million humans and at least 1.2 billion Omnics were due to appear in the march for peace.

It was something Lena was particularly interested in as she munched down on her breakfast. In need of some form of entertainment, the young girl flipped the holoscreen away and tuned it to all the text messages she received from the lads last night, giggling about when they mentioned to their wives/girlfriends why they were out so late. Surprisingly enough, she finished the flakes of cereal rapidly. Her headache had mostly disappeared as morning progressed on, but it was still there. 

The doorknob then jiggled open, but in a split second Lena had taken notice and disappeared with her empty cereal bowl. The holoscreen disappeared as well, and in stepped Amélie with a rather large case of Gingerbread Pie in a bag. She had a large black overcoat on, alongside a turtleneck sweater and a purple scarf. The woman acted as if the young girl was still asleep, and moved towards the fridge to go place these for safekeeping.

The adventurer smirked as she placed her bowl elsewhere. Then, she madly dashed over and yelled out to try and catch Amélie off-guard. She slid her arms around the cold spider and nuzzled her face on the back of the overcoat. **“G’mornin’!”** Lena spoke out in a singing voice. The blue-skinned woman wasn’t caught off-guard at all, but she did appreciate the young girl chose to greet her in this way.

Amélie shifted her body around so she was now facing her love. She gave a small smile and caressed the other’s face.  **“ _Excité de me voir, mon amour?_ (Excited to see me, my love?)”** The cold woman chuckled before lifting Lena up and sat her on the counter. The young girl yelped when she was lifted up of course, but Amélie gave a soft nuzzle to Lena’s neck and smiled even more when she felt ticklish and squirmed around. Once her teasing had stopped, Amélie delivered a tender kiss on Lena’s cheek. **“Emily stopped by last night looking for you. She’s staying with us for Christmas, my permission of course.”**

This had caused the adventurer to grin widely. **“Brilliant! It’s nice you two are gettin’ along fine! We can get Winston too through calls if ya want?”** She tilted her head once she asked the question, and Amélie shrugged. Truth be told, it was anything she wanted, and why would she object to having more people around the table? Lena clasped her hands together.  **“Aces! I’ll call him up right now an’ let him know!”**

Just as the young girl was going to pull out her phone, Amélie grabbed both her hands. It stopped her and she blinked a few times. The spider gently shook her head.  **“One obligation at a time. You still need to make it up to me for last night.”** She tilted her head and gazed at Lena with her yellow spheres. **"Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?"**

Almost immediately her lover shook her head in disagreement. **“No, no! It’ll be quick, just a few minutes at best.”** She had a soft grin and an innocent look in her eyes, and it was difficult for Amélie to resist her adorable demeanor. The woman backed away and chuckled softly. She knew that a few minutes weren't going to be it, more like several at the minimum. Nonetheless, she nodded once.

 **“Of course. I’ll be waiting.”** Amélie spun herself around and proceeded to take off her overcoat while the young adventurer plopped back down to the ground, zooming past back to her bowl. The holoscreens couldn’t keep up with Lena’s blinding speed, but when she finally stopped, Winston had been dialed. All in the meanwhile, Amélie redressed herself in more comfortable clothing and went back to her memoir book. Winston was reached and over at Lena's side, she waved happily and found a place to rest while asking if the scientist would like to spend Christmas with them.

He had agreed, with a smile of his own. Winston raised his glasses up to his bridge and quickly remembered that Lena had spent her holidays with him, pre-Overwatch's fallen days. **"Gibraltar slowed down at any rate. Research and Development teams are out, so I'm not in any predicaments for once, thankfully. No rebuilding 'til next year!"** Winston had calmly spoken, and Lena nodded.

 **"Perfect! Are you gonna stay with us or have you been meanin' to try out that new tech thing ya gave me?"** Lena then began searching for a tiny little object around the house, but the scientist snapped back her attention to him. He scratched his chin and thought about it for a moment. He had wanted to do this in a one-on-one environment so it could be controlled, but going against the natural could work...or not. Too risky, he thought. An appearance would mean he'd have to go right now and get booked with a hotel.

A 'few minutes' happened to be around 15 or perhaps 20 minutes. It didn't seem to phase Amélie that it took long, considering Lena was spending time with her best friend and laughing along the way. No longer was the conversation about Christmas, but it became more about menial subjects like whether or not Lena should've gotten peanut butter, or Winston could've just come here without further complicating things. When Lena was done and all things were set-up...she turned her focus towards Amélie. The woman was casually lounging on the sofa reading away, and as the young girl zipped in, she lowered the book.  **“Finished?”**  
Lena said nothing and smiled only. Not even a nod to signify she was, or any sign that it was done. She simply climbed onto the sofa alongside Amélie, nestling her head onto her breast with a content sigh. The spider gave a small smile and placed the book away with its bookmark in place.  **“So you _are_.”**

The woman laid her head down on the sofa’s armrest and got comfortable while Lena scooted upwards. Though, just as Amélie began resting, she felt the soft lips of the girl press against her neck and slowly move up to her cheeks, then all the way to her own blue lips. It took her long enough, but it was worth it. Amélie pulled Lena in ever so closer and wrapped her arms around the adventurer’s waistline. Just for a moment, she wanted to savor the moment. After a while, the two pulled away and gave each other soft and warm looks. They smiled and Lena went back to cuddling Amélie.  **“Still gotta make it up s’more...”**

Amélie looked down at the young girl and smiled.  **“You already are with every little moment we share together, _chérie_ (sweetheart/dear).”** The spider chuckled once more and ruffled up the young girl’s hair, running her fingers through the slick amber colored hair.  **“Less talk now. More relaxing time.”**

The adventurer giggled and gently patted Amélie’s shoulder in acknowledgement.  **“’Course! I mean, if that’s what ya want.”**

So they did, with cuddles all morning, and not much else. They spoke little, asking each other how their weeks have gone, but never a full on discussion about anything else. Little hearts were traced alongside their stomaches and occasional kisses made their way to each other’s cheeks. Conversations did open up later down the line. They talked about Emily’s stay over, and debated whether or not they should go visit the sights of London in this weather, a la parkour.

But above all, Lena had noticed Amélie become healthier and more reactive than the previous months they had encountered together. She laughed, and she felt like she meant it. Every warm smile she gave was as if the things the girl had said made her elated. She was comfortable with sharing information - that was how much Amélie had trusted Lena right now.

She’d discuss her own life in their morning conversations together, about her dream at the ballet stage. It embarrassed Lena in a similar fashion, and it only caused Amélie to laugh heartily so. In return, Lena would mention her dreams long ago about becoming a Formula One racer and how she was so talented in aerodynamics. She was talented enough to graduate Overwatch's flight program in a record time of only just a year.

And that’s what made her really happy. The two just talked about whatever, and the other would listen contently. Then, the quiet came again and they simply laid there. It was the perfect day for them. No more conflicts. No more pain. As the morning turned into the afternoon, they stopped cuddling and prepared for a very casual lunch, and perhaps a movie. Amélie had set some tunes while they cooked lunch together. At some point, the woman had stopped what she was doing and felt compelled to dance around the kitchen with Lena by her side. It was all fun and games, until they both burned bits of their food. Despite that, they brushed it off and ate it anyway. Everything was going alright.

But was it really?


	3. Safe

Snow fell down a lot harder when the evening came along. Both Lena and Amélie were tasked with collecting Emily from her apartment all the way in the Croydon district, which was only approximately 30 minutes away on a slow night. Tonight however, due to inclement weather, Lena had decided to drive a little slower. The heat inside the car was on and Amélie was a little bit preoccupied with looking out the window. Though the hovercar itself had capabilities of auto-piloting, Lena still had to look out for any potential mishaps and other nonsensical drivers.

It was about 7:50 P.M. when the two girls departed from their Westminster loft, but right now it was 8:10 P.M., and they were stuck in traffic for a bit. Old records dating back 60 years ago were playing, namely The 1975's cover of Sade's _**"By Your Side"**_. The ride was silent in terms of social interactions, so Lena had decided to spice things up a bit. 

 **"So...whatcha wanna do tonight?"** Lena had softly asked out of Amélie.

The woman peered over and hummed a little. **"I...don't particularly know. Perhaps sleep early, prepare for tomorrow."**

Lena had come up with her own suggestion. **"Play the piano maybe? Ya can't just sleep an' leave her and I to figure out what to do for the rest of the night!"**

Amélie smiled and lifted her head from her hand. **"Okay. Maybe a composition or two, but no more."**

The adventurer smiled and then nodded in approval, softly whispering 'Yes!' to herself. Amélie took a deep breath and began admiring the staggering skyscrapers around the city, rather than get lost in her own thoughts. Feeling a bit parched, she lifted up her water bottle and took a quick sip. The heavy snowfall didn't seem like it would stop any time soon, so they had best hurry things up if possible. The cars began moving again after Lena had bypassed all the clogging, and things went a lot more smoothly from that point on. When they had entered into the Croydon district, it was a fairly vivid lightshow in comparison to the posh and ultra-modern stylism of Westminster. Given of course, Croydon still to this day was the center of arts and culture, it made sense that the general themes and aesthetics in the buildings reflected it as such.

Roads only got smoother from here on out. The GPS had successfully mapped out Emily's apartment in the shortest time possible, and it took a few minutes before the two finally found, descended, and parked just outside. Lena was the first to prop open the car door, and she dashed over to the front gates of the apartment complex. Amélie had just gotten out, and the adventurer didn't want to continue on without her. Together, they walked in and were greeted by a row of abstract art mounted on the wall, and people sitting in the lobby chairs talking softly. One included what brand of chocolate was better, be it Toblerone or Cadbury, while another was about two inexperienced writers exchanging creative ideas for their story drafts.

The young girl scanned the list of people living on what floor, and almost immediately she spotted Emily's name. **"Floor 25, Room 4!"** She called out, and then marched towards the elevator doors. She pushed the elevator's up button, and the elevator doors slid open as a group of people who looked like they were about to go caroling out emerged. The two girls swapped positions with them, and Amélie held down the close door button and pressed 25 on the dial. With a small ding, the elevator doors closed, and then gradually ascended. The view of the borough's dizzying skyscrapers filled their eyesights. The young girl slid her hand over to Amélie's, gently interlocking their fingers together. She gave a gentle squeeze and giggled, wondering what the woman before her thought of all this.

Ding. The elevator doors opened up once more to a rather spacious hallway with additional chairs and a recreation of medieval armor sitting behind a display case. Room 4 was at the very end of the hallway with a holographic display signifying that Emily was residing here. A green light emitted near the door panel to indicate she was indeed inside, and with a quick buzz, she was notified that she was to have guests. The door unlocked and opened by itself. Emily was not there to greet them, but rather she was spending time in her creative zone doodling away.   **"'Ellooooooo? Emmy? You in here?"** Lena had called out.

The freckled girl lifted her head out of her drafting station and swung her head to check the time. Her eyes widened and then she quickly stood up. She had packed her bags already, but she hadn't realized she shirked on her duties to get the rest of her necessities in the luggage. **"Coming!"** She had said, and then rushed into the main living room. **"Hey! Um gimme just a few minutes here..."** The redheaded girl then brushed her bangs behind her ears and then gestured that they wait a moment, and ran off to go grab more things.

Lena sat down on a white sofa and patiently waited for Emily to finish up packing. The cold woman on the other hand was observing the apartment with piqued curiosity. For a moment though, she glanced over to Lena and noticed she was preoccupied slightly with tapping her hands on her lap and bopping her head whilst humming some song Amélie wasn't too familiar with. It was something to do, at least, so the woman kept on going. The only sounds to be heard were the shuffles of Amélie around the apartment floor, Lena's humming, and Emily stuffing her bag full of things in the background.

It then came to Amélie had diverted her attention towards a rather unique drawing that was framed on the wall. Something about it seemed...off, yet in a good way. Regardless, it entertained the woman for some few moments before she went to go sit down next to Lena. They didn't have a chance to talk as Emily had dressed herself up and strolled out with one large luggage bag filled with all the necessities. A bit overkill, perhaps, but she liked having more than enough even if it meant she'd only stay for 3 days. Above all else, she brought her portable drawing station with her so she could doodle on the go. The device itself was strapped on her thigh for safekeeping, and with a soft smile, she nervously scratched her head. **"Sorry it took so long. Let's go."**

Fast-forward another half hour later, the three arrived back in the loft. Lights inside the building turned themselves on as they entered in, and the quiet and snow-covered view of Paris transitioned into the wintery night of London. Amélie began taking off her scarf first and wrapped it around the coat hangar, then she took off her coal-colored overcoat blazer. The other two Brits soon followed, and the spider beckoned Emily to come with.

 **"As we agreed. You take my room, Winston takes the guest room, I share a room with Lena."** She moved her hand towards the door leading to her own room and nodded. **"Please do not touch anything you aren't supposed to."**

 **"Aha, okay."** Emily chuckled as she moved her luggage inside. She nodded in a little, mostly in approval about the minimalistic approach Amélie took to the pad. Then, Emily shut the door behind her and got to work unwinding. This left the two girls alone, with Lena getting her chronal accelerator off and placed in the charging station. Wiping her hands, the young adventurer propped herself right down on the sofa and loudly sighed a breath of relief.

 **"Nice to take that bloody thing off now. Felt too iffy with the last one I had."** For a moment though, Lena reflected back to it and nervously scratched her head. **"The uh...the one ya kicked in."**

Raising her hand, Amélie brushed off the notion. She didn't like to be reminded of her past actions and preferred to keep those memories stored elsewhere. She too took a seat down on the sofa. She pondered about the conversations they had in the car, specifically one where Emily was still a student in an artistic school. Strange as it was, Emily preferred to practice hand-drawing. It was an ancient technique, especially in this day and age where all the artwork of the world turned to digital and simulated reality bending. 

Just then, Lena nestled up to Amélie while she was still contemplating, and softly giggled when she caught the woman off-guard. **"C'mere, you~"** She wrapped her arms around the cold woman's waist and began teasing her. This had caused Amélie to laugh a bit and she didn't try to resist, knowing well enough that it'd be a little pointless. After a while, the two settled down and chuckled before kissing each other tenderly, just before the spider closed her eyes. She was suddenly a little tired out from tonight's ride back and forth. Then, Lena pressed her head on Amélie's chest, and she could hear a very consistent heartbeat that the woman seemed unaware of.

 **"Hey. Amélie."** Lena whispered, and Amélie hummed, wondering what her love could want right now. **"Your heart."**

Blinking, the woman rose up slightly and looked down. **"What about it?"** She felt confused, but then the young girl moved her hands towards her heart. It was thumping at a regular, human rate - something Amélie hadn't felt in almost a decade. How odd, Amélie thought to herself. There was no chest pain to associate the accelerated heartrate, but she did feel...genuinely alive. In that moment, she warmly smiled and chuckled, a little astounded by what was happening.

But then her heart beat a lot slower, and it reverted back to abnormal palpitations. Clutching her chest, Amélie gasped in pain and almost fainted. The young girl rose up from her cuddling position and became a little alarmed. "Amélie!"

The woman remained still for a moment before inhaling a deep breath. **"Agh...merde (Damn)."** She slowly rose up from the couch and almost stumbled trying to even stand up. When Amélie steadied her balance, she ensured that things would be perfectly okay, but Lena wouldn't have any of it. The adventurer helped escort Amélie to somewhere she could properly rest.

Once the cold woman got her feet into bed, she had undressed to wear only a white t-shirt and panties, while the rest of her clothes were on the floor. Before long though, Amélie quietly requested she just get some sleep and turn in early tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, she was hoping to play the piano just for the pleasure of seeing Emily and Winston's reaction to it. A little light peered out at the door sill as Lena exited the room.

She didn't know how many hours passed as she fell asleep. Amélie could vaguely smell the scent of food and hear the two Brits laughing during the night, but after that...it was just silent. Eerily silent. She dreamed, and it was the first time this month she dreamed.

She dreaded it, mostly because her dreams quickly turned into nightmares of her past. It started off always in her old house - the Estate in Annecy, with her husband. Sometimes it would change to end with her killing Gérard, or sometimes it'd deviate and she'd end up doing something else. This one was different, and it was different because it didn't start off in Annecy, and it started in a lab.

Amélie was strapped in a chair and she was unable to move. There were people cruelly laughing despite nobody else being present in the room. A mechanical contraption loomed over her head, and she dreaded looking at it.  
This was the machine she feared and the one that kept her in her place. The dream was beyond distorted shortly after, and flashes of memories bled in-between like a sadistic montage of violent assassinations she committed.

In the real world, Lena had been sleeping right next to Amélie and had slid her arms around the woman's waist to keep her company. She was awoken by the sense that something was very wrong, and it became more obvious when she could feel Amélie shaking and muttering to stop. There were occasional gasps and whimpers, and this was something that had alarmed Lena the most. She didn't think it would happen again - and not in such a short amount of time. The last one was a couple of weeks ago.

The young girl rose up and tried to get Amélie to wake up. She softly whispered her name, and pursed her lips. **"Amélie..."** It was getting a bit more frantic as the few moments passed by. How bad was it this time? The memories kept flashing ever so faster. It fast forwarded almost a decade of horrible deaths, and then it slowed down.

It was still. The weather felt warm, and the night lit up. Amélie was on her back staring up at the night sky, with the cold concrete roof the only thing she could feel. A lot of commotion was coming from several stories below. She rose up and had found herself in King's Row again, the night she assassinated Mondatta.

Except it played out differently. There were no guards, for they were all incapacitated, and the crowd turned from some thousand people to almost a million in the streets. She had no control over her body, and before she knew it, she was coiling her grappling hook on her feet to position herself to kill the omnic again. Nobody was there to stop her, and not even Tracer had showed up. The moment was just perfect, she wasted no more time dawdling about.

Bang. Her Widow's Kiss fired off a single bullet, and in her sights was Mondatta. She looked down her scope just to confirm the kill, but the Omnic was still standing. She was now looking at Lena, who, in a split-second decision, body-blocked the shot. The bullet had penetrated through her accelerator core and splurted out blood that stained the podium and caused her to slump over. Her immediate bleed-out shocked the entire crowd. It was then Amélie had just realized she had shot Lena and she was too far away to save her from dying. A few seconds passed in the dream, and only then did it allow her to move freely now. She dropped her gun, and tried yelling out. She couldn't hear anything anymore, and her grappling hook detached to make her fall.

That was when Amélie woke from her nightmare and screamed out. It took a few moments to register it all, and she was panting heavily. She could feel beads of sweat fall down onto her face. **"No. No...!"** Her breathing was shaky, and her first instinct was to check on Lena. The woman's head turned to face the left-side of the bed, and she could see that the young girl was up, frowning slightly.

She stifled. Then she could feel tears roll down her cheeks, and Amélie's lips quivered. By instinct, she came over and swung her arms around Lena into a hug. She refused to be silent about it, visibly sobbing. Her grip tightened around Lena's body as her nightmares still swirled around in her mind. **"It's very cold, Lena..."** Her head was now buried on the side of Lena's neck.

All the young girl simply did was put her hand behind the nape of Amélie's neck and softly stroked up and down. **"I'm here."** She had softly whispered into the woman's ear repeatedly. It was hard for her to hold back her own tears, and she could feel them escape the more Amélie cried. **"It's just a dream. You're safe."**

Whatever happened must've been truly terrible, Lena had thought to herself. She didn't want to speak about it because it'd be painful for the both of them. Rather than do so, she consoled the spider and nuzzled her, trying to make sure she was okay. But the truth of the matter is...things were not okay. She knew damn well that things wouldn't be okay this early into Amélie's freedom.

 **"...Do you hate me?"** The woman spoke through her sobs. **"Because of what I've done...?"**

 **"No, luv. That wasn't you."** The young girl had replied back in a soothing voice. **"That was never you."**

The crying subsided after a while, and there were only sniffles to be heard. Amélie's tears had soaked through Lena's shirt as she backed away to look at her. **"I..."**

She didn't want to hear it. Lena placed her index finger to silence Amélie, and she sighed. **"Please, don't do this to yourself..."** Her tears were still going, but she wiped them away on her own and exhaled. **"I love you. I love you so much, and that's all you need to hear tonight."** Then, she caressed the spider's cheek. **"Just look at me. Focus on me."** With a small smile, Lena tilted her head to the left and let the small, intimate moments between them pass. She leaned in and then gave Amélie a deep kiss, right on her lips. It was sloppy and a little wet, but Lena could feel the other woman tense up and relax as she did so. As Lena pulled away, Amélie pulled her back in for an embrace. She closed her eyes and softly whimpered, sniffling every now and then. 

That night, she didn't get very much sleep. Lena spent most of her night trying to ease and lull Amélie, and eventually she did. It perhaps 2:00 A.M. in the morning before Amélie had calmed down enough to go rest without anymore disturbances. The snow outside had lightened up, but it was still going and it had covered the windows with ice, thus the simulation of France was a bit muddled compared to the one for London. When it was time for Lena to lay down as well, she curled up with her love and then held her tight.

 


	4. Belong

It was already Christmas Eve, and Lena and Amélie were due for some super late present shopping, having forgotten to get Winston and Emily gifts. It seemed that Amélie had recovered from her incident two nights ago, but she was struggling to come to terms that it had happened. She had no idea why it even occurred, but that would not let her down. This had left the freckled girl and the scientist to housekeep while the two girls were away. The moon had risen, and the night sky dribbled snowflakes.

Emily was casually sitting down on a curved couch with her portable drafting station, drawing the cityscape outside. Something about her drawing seemed off, mostly because it was uninspired at the moment. She drew and she drew, but no matter what, the illustrious grandeur of the skylines just couldn’t be captured. Instead, she took a picture for later reference, stared at her artwork, and after a few moments, she scrapped it.

That was when the freckled girl laid herself down on the couch and shuffled around for a bit. Any minute now, they’d come back. After all, they were mostly waiting on a _révellion_ , or a long dinner.

So they did. Both girls arrived up to their loft, and Lena propped open the door only to be helped by Winston, who at the time was watching a documentary on penguins to pass the time. Amélie was in tow, carrying her own stack of presents. None of them were hers, because the adventurer had promised her something ‘super special’ on Christmas evening, without even leaving so much as a hint to what it was. She didn’t mind, so long as she got something in return.

They set down the presents around the Christmas tree, with Amélie taking off her gloves and scarf before proceeding onwards to the kitchen to prepare for the dinner, and Lena propped herself up while sliding down her goggles to her neck. Curiously, Winston had forgotten to greet them and instead made some noises. **“Did ya take your shot yet?”** The young girl had politely asked of the large scientist. Maybe he missed it.

Nervously, Winston chuckled.  **“Um...penguins.”** He pointed at the documentary still going on, trying to divert the focus on his genetic shots. Groaning, Lena placed her goggles back on her face.

 **“ _Winston!_ What would Angie say, mate?”** She sighed and expressed her disapproval. It wasn't uncommon for Winston to miss out on his genetic therapy on-the-go shots, but to miss it and expect her not to notice was something else. Just as she was preparing to blink into the guest room, the scientist raised his hands in protest.

 **“Okay, okay! Let me go quietly.”** He shook his head in shame and headed back to his guest room for the time being. He wouldn't be out for at least another hour - but the three girls would wait on him.

Heading down the stairs, Emily greeted them and gave a big grin to the two of them. **“And here I thought I was gonna have to spend the night with Winston.”** But she didn’t, and she was more than glad about it. She did see the scientist head back to his room, and she pointed her thumb behind her. **"What's that about?"**

Raising her hand, Lena shrugged off the question. **"Not to worry, luv! He'll be fine."** In return, Lena pointed towards the kitchen as she hung up her goggles elsewhere, and took off her bomber jacket. **"D'you mind helpin'?"**

Without hesitation, Emily nodded and giggled with a cute little grin. The cold woman had rolled up her sleeves and was washing her hands when she noticed the two freckled Brits chuckling to each other. She gave a soft smile in return, admiring the moment. **" _Précieux_ (Precious)..."** Amélie softly muttered, but she shook her head and calmly chuckled as she wiped her hands off with a towel. **"Get over here and help me."**

Quickly, the fridge was popped open by Lena who set most of the food Amélie bought into the kitchen counters. They were once empty, but were now filled with countless amounts of food fit for at least eight people. This, of course, made the spider snicker. **"Lena. _No._ "** Just before Lena got out her Yorkshire pie, she nervously smiled, but Amélie wagged her finger. **"Not all at _once_ , _chérie_ (dear/sweetheart). We've got New Years and the remaining week to think about."**

Emily took the opportunity to put half the food away as Lena felt a little disappointed. The young adventurer instead opened up most of the seals and other ingredients. She got to work on washing out the salad and other winter ingredients by running them over water, and the freckled redhead to pre-heat the ovens for the turkey, and leg of lamb.

All in the meanwhile, Amélie calmly ordered the two around so that she could speed up the process. Several minutes passed, and when the tedious parts of getting the kitchen in order was out of the way, they had a breather to wait. The lush scent of assorted meats filled the air as they were being roasted, and they casually relaxed on the sofa, having switched Winston's documentary to the 2076 remake of 'Love, Actually'. More than half of the cast comprised of Omnics and people of color, all with varying amounts of love to be shown.

It was awkward for the cold woman to even be remotely here. All these years alone on Christmas, and only now did she have a sense of family surrounding her again. It warmed her heart just a smidge, but she couldn't fully appreciate it knowing they'd have to get back up to prep the table and get the food out. Just then, Lena perked herself up and gazed at Amélie. **"I've been thinkin'..."** She spoke up, and both Amélie and Emily turned their attention to her. **"Maybe Emmy an' Winston should stay for New Years before going back."** Amélie turned over to take a look at Emily, who then looked back at the woman. They refocused their eyes back on Lena without saying a word, but the redhead grinned at the idea. **"Feels off they're only stayin' for two days, y'know?"**

After some careful consideration, Amélie sighed and nodded. **"Only because I like her. That, and Winston _could_ speed up my procedure."**

 **"Aces!"** They both cried out, causing the woman to flinch a bit. She settled down after a couple moments, with the two Brits snuggling up to her as they watched the movie. After a while though, Emily backed off because Amélie's cold skin felt unnatural, and Lena giggled, only telling her she'd get used to it.

Out in the corner of their eyes, the guest room door opened up slowly. Winston groaned loudly as he stretched his neck and moved towards them. **" _Ughhh._ That hurt a lot."** It took a moment for him to register it, but he noticed all three girls were staring at him. He awkwardly looked back and readjusted his glasses, and noticed the movie they were watching. **"Oh. Love, Hacktually. Been meaning to watch that."** He gestured at them in a way to ask if he was allowed to sit on the couch. They all nodded, with Lena and Amélie scooting over and Emily patting the free empty seat.

For the next several minutes, they continued on with the movie. Winston, Lena, and Emily were mostly the ones guffawing at the cheesy one-liners and other comedic bits, while Amélie softly chuckled. Then the oven bells rang, giving off a simple 'ding' to indicate it was time. The cold woman shot up from her couch and went to go get her oven mitts, and Lena blinked over to help her get the table ready. Emily was the last to stand up, leaving Winston alone to watch the movie for the time being. She was tasked with doubling up on serving the food at the table.

Before serving, Amélie double checked to make sure the turkey and its stuffing was at the perfect temperature. Indeed, the meat and the stuffing was at 74 degrees Celsius, or 165 degrees Fahrenheit. It needed time to cool off, as with the lamb. The rest however was perfectly able to be eaten, so Emily and Amélie took out all the prepared food and set them on hot plates. From the mashed potatoes, the Niçoise-style salad, various sauces to dip food in, Pigs in Blankets/Pigs in a Basket, loads of fruits and vegetables (for Winston's diet), a Yule log chocolate spongecake and the Yorkshire pie, and Christmas pudding just for Emily, all of it was ready to go. A small bottle of champagne and three glasses of eggnog were pre-filled with whipped cream were ready as well, just set aside from the food.

Thus, it was set. Save for the turkey and lamb, the dinner was ready. All they needed now was to wait, and so they did for about fifteen or so minutes. When the first third of the movie concluded, the cold woman paused the film by lifting her hand up in the air and pressing forward in the air, and she turned it off. Everybody around her gave her a look, and she stood up once again. **"It's time."** She softly spoke. Nodding, all four moved towards the kitchen to help move out the meals.

The turkey and lamb were in the middle, whilst the bowl of vegetables and fruits were where Winston seated himself. While he was genetically modified later down in his life, that did not particularly change up his dietary needs as a gorilla. To be frank, the three girls weren't quite sure if he could even consume eggnog and desserts. Even the scientist wasn't sure, but he was willing to try.

Dinner started with Amélie getting the first slice of turkey and lamb, with Lena insisting so. She deserved it, because it was her first Christmas surrounded by people who cared about her. The rest proceeded to get their own respective portions. It was delicious, everything synergized together so perfectly, and in general the first few minutes were just filled with laughter and overall glee for the first impressions of things. It settled down past that, and it remained silent for a bit before a conversation sparked up.

 **"So...Amy. Do you mind if I call you that? Amy?"** Emily had asked. Amélie blinked a few times, but she played it cool and chuckled.

Amy? Really, how hard could it be to just say her name? But maybe...oh, Mel, or Melly felt nice. Regardless, she replied in a calm tone. **"Please. Amélie has a nicer ring to it. Amy feels...less elegant. Casual."** Her fork and knife clinked as she let go for the time being. She took a sip of her champagne and thought for a moment. **"Amy. Amy. Melly. Maybe."** She muttered to herself.

 **"...Okay. No nicknames then."** Emily chuckled, while the other two were remaining silent. She tried to get Amélie's attention again, which the freckled girl was successfully able to do so. **"What did you ever do before you uh...became an assassin?"**

Just then, Winston and Lena stopped eating and stared at Emily. They weren't quite sure if she was being serious, but Lena was more worried it might tick off Amélie to speak of her past. For a moment, those concerns grew a little more real when the woman blankly stared at the redhead. But the concerns fell off after Amélie snickered, and Lena breathed a sigh of relief. **"Secretary for a business corporation. I'm not sure which one. I know it was economically related..."**

Scratching her head, her mind clouded itself up when she was trying to figure out which corporation she worked for. Brushing it off, she shook her head. **"I...vaguely remember anything about it."** Amélie then covered her mouth with her index finger and had a thoughtful pose to her. **"...Come to think of it, I also remember I had a master's in Business and a license in Economics. And, some years in a ballet-dancing or music-related degree. I don't know which."**

For a moment, Amélie looked up at the young girl and smiled. **"Lena helped me remember. We found a ledger in the office of my old estate. But, it was only brief that I remember these things."**

Shrugging, Emily chuckled and understood that this was years ago. Lena had indeed mentioned a lot of horrible things to the redhead prior to meeting Amélie herself. Things got silent for a brief moment, but the spider had her own question in return. **"What about you? I am only aware you're an artist."**

Emily froze up a little bit out of embarrassment. Nervously, she laughed a little. **"O-oh, um...no, I'm just an art student. First year, actually. I like drawing! But I also like writing."** She bit her lower lip. **"I'm not that good at either."** At least, that's what she thought. Winston raised his finger up as he was munching down some fruits and grunted.

 **"No, don't be too hard on yourself. The poems you sent me and the doodles I see are _pretty_ awesome."** He gave a thumbs up, and Amélie nodded. Truth be told, she was quite approving of the art she saw in the Croydon apartment Emily had. But this caused the redhead to blush a little and hide her face in more embarrassment. She was indistinctly saying something, and Lena giggled as she patted the freckled girl's head.

 **"Now look what you two did! Ya flattered her."** She chortled a little bit, but Lena proceeded to lean in and whisper about how - teasingly - she thought Emily's art was trashy. In response, the redhead emerged out of her embarrassment and jokingly told her to shut up. Lena teased her some more, but by the end of it they laughed, and Emily shook her head at how far the conversation went. Amélie smiled at the scene, mostly because it was...nice to see Lena smiling and laughing and just in general being happy. Something about tonight was really getting her to feel a lot more emotive, and it wasn't just how good the food tasted, but rather the aura and spirit of their festivities.

Dinner eventually wrapped up when most of the food and desserts were consumed. It really did turn out Winston could drink eggnog, but he could not eat meat or have anything super sweet. More conversations were held over the course of the long dinner - such as Emily's desire to become professional, but only as a regular artist and not an animation type artist. Everybody around the table knew Lena, so it was really up to the scientist to carry out his own journey in the Lunar Space Colony with his caretaker, Harold. He vaguely remembered spending Christmas with other small chimps around the colony, but...it was all a haze with his work swamping him.

Time flew by, and it flew by quick. Though Lena wanted to conclude tonight by having Amélie play the piano as promised, it really was getting too late. They needed to get clean first and foremost, and above all they still had a ton of time to demonstrate Amélie's talent for the ivory keys.

So that's what Lena and Amélie did. They took a long shower and got dressed in loose-fitting but comfortable clothes. Winston had gotten off to bed already, but Emily was still up still trying to get inspired. She was writing down inspirational ideas, but eventually found it too hard to keep awake. The two girls were the last to make it to bed. Amélie blissfully sighed as her head hit the pillow and Lena snuggled up to her.

 **"Lena."** She softly whispered into her love's ear, and stroked the young girl's hand. **"Is this what it's like to have a family again...?"**

Softly chuckling, Lena looked at the woman in her yellow eyes. **"I s'ppose we're part of a family. Mum and Da aren't here. Neither are my siblings. Rest of Overwatch would be the super big family."**

A few seconds pass, and the only thing they heard mildly was their breathing. **"But that's not what you meant, is it?"** Lenastared rather intently at their lover for a while, and smirked. The young girl nodded and gave a quick peck on Amélie's cheek and patted her shoulder. **"Yes. This is what family feels like, luv."** She remained silent for a few moments before laughing at the thought. **"Everybody loves each other. We cherish moments no matter how small. We stay together."**

With a nod, the cold woman exhaled and closed her eyes. A soft smile was laid across her lips.  **"Then I know I'm right when I say that I'm where I want to be."**


	5. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie relives a terrible event in her life and begins questioning herself. Emily gains the inspiration she requires, but not the way she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Away from past troubles'? One does not run away from troubles if trouble actively lives among themselves.

Her eyes opened up as water gradually dripped down from her face all the way to her sharp chin. She was tired, though she had just woken up. It was Christmas Day after all, but despite the peaceful festivities, Amélie couldn’t help but feel that something was clawing in the back of her head today. It felt as if she missed something, but it was unclear.

She had been washing her face (for the morning came, albeit far too quick) and snow had come down hard on the streets. Both London and Paris experienced fairly moderate amounts of snow drifting down towards the ground, so it was, indeed, a very white Christmas.

Lena casually popped into the bathroom and had wrapped her arms just behind Amélie. The girl poked her head over to face the mirror with a small grin. **“G’mornin’! Merry Christmas, luv!”** Her high-pitched Cockney accent had uttered.

The woman chuckled slightly, giving a small smile of her own. Her hands found their way to meet up with Lena’s own, and with a gentle squeeze, she shuffled her body around.  **“ _Salut, mon amour (Hello, my love)_. Merry Christmas to you, too. Tell me,”** Amélie lifted up Lena’s chin and tilted her head to the side.  **“When is my present coming?”**

Nervously, the smaller Brit laughed a bit. **“Um...tonight. Yeah, _tonight_! It’s-it’s gonna be real fun when ya get it, I promise!”** Her nervous laughter became a bit more apparent, then she rubbed her neck, hoping to ease the tension. **“I just gotta...prepare...”** She muttered the last sentence, and a hint of a blush came.

**“It’ll be special! Just for you.”** Lena exclaimed and snuggled up onto the woman’s arm. 

**“Take your time then,”** She began, **“I patiently await what you’ve in store.”** Her smile had appeared once more in the process. Everything seemed to be in order, so Amélie had finished up drying her face with a towel with one hand. For a moment, the woman took some time to stare at herself in the mirror. It was like seeing the reflection of somebody’s nightmare, but over the years she had thought she’d grown used to it by now.

**“Lena,”** She glanced downwards, as the girl peeked over and hummed in response. **“Do you think Doctor Ziegler could truly fix me?”**

Almost immediately, the adventurer nodded.  **“No question ‘bout it!”**

Though reassuring, Amélie was still not convinced. She had given a small smile, but it rapidly faded away.  **“I don’t mind my skin color, nor how unnatural I look. I simply want to...not hurt anymore. Physically.”**

Rubbing her chin, Lena recalled back to the time the both of them went in together to review all possible outcomes of this operation. Though her skin deficiency would take months to revert, everything else would seemingly be fixed. At least, that’s what Angela had told the both of them.

But there was of course the possibility of canceling it, or outright the operation doesn’t work. Optimistic as it were, even the doctor herself wasn’t quite sure if it was possible. She would have to spend quite some time working on every potential outcome and have several backup plans if the need arose.

Amélie felt a warm presence press their cheek onto her arm again. It tickled her, and it reassured her of so many things.  **“I’ll love you regardless, Amélie! Even if it doesn’t work out all that well.”**

Chuckling, the woman gently pushed Lena away.  **“I’m going to go get something to eat. You...clean yourself up.”** Just before she shifted her body around to face the doorway, the two girls parted with a quick and affirming kiss to each other on the cheek.

* * *

While Lena proceeded to do her own hygienic needs, the cold woman proceeded to the kitchen, where she had found Emily already up and munching away at the salad from last night. Strange, considering a salad wasn’t usually a proper thing to eat. However, she had no right to disagree on whether or not anything a friend was eating was wrong.

What piqued her interest more was the empty canvas hovering over the freckled girl. Surely by now she could have at least doodled, at the very least? There wasn’t even a hint of any pencil markings or scraps of paper anywhere to be found. Whatever the case, the woman did not mind. She was starving, and she wanted to go eat a few slices of bread with Nutella, and perhaps butter it up instead.

Coupled with some herbal tea, Amélie decided she would have a light breakfast in comparison to what she’d usually favor. She took a seat right next to Emily, and quietly observed her eat, and focus on nothing but eating. It seemed to her that the redheaded Brit was a little bit lost on what to create, so much that she didn’t even say hello or acknowledge the woman’s presence.

Gently, Amélie prodded Emily on her exposed shoulder. Just from her icy touch alone, Emily flinched and almost flung her fork across the room.  **“Oh, _God_! Don’t scare me like that!”**

Smirking, the woman chuckled some.  **“I see you’re quite busy.”**

In response, Emily pouted and mildly picked up some bits of lettuce to chew on.  **“Not like this, mate. At this rate I’m getting nowhere.”**

**“I am quite sure you’ll figure it out, Emily. After all...you are talented, _oui (yes)_?” ** Amélie replied, as she proceeded to take a bite out of her buttered bread.

Out in the corner of her eye, she saw plenty of reference photos minimized down. Sneakily, she pulled one photo over and expanded it. It was rather beautiful, just a reference photo of a cityscape from last night. Even if it were artificial, she would’ve loved to see this hand-drawn in some way.

She hummed, placing the photo back where it belonged. The other reference photos seemed irrelevant, or simply, Amélie had no idea what they were for. Interestingly enough, there were some sample photos of the woman herself, presumably taken from Lena’s phone. That little young Brit always had a knack for taking sneaky selfies of Amélie, after all.

_**“En veux-tu plus (Do you want more?)”**_ A familiar voice had called out, echoing throughout the room. The accent was French, but it sounded much like her own, albeit...younger. Amélie froze up and gulped down her bread, turning to Emily, who had been packing up her canvas and pencil.

**“ _...What?_ ”** The cold woman murmured, **“Did you...did you say something?”**

The redheaded girl diverted her attention back to Amélie with a confused look. She was just about ready to get up and put her plate into the sink.  **“I didn’t say anything. You alright?”**

How odd. Amélie softly bit her lower lip, wondering what on Earth that even was. She simply nodded her head to reaffirm Emily, and the freckled girl went about her own business. Maybe she forgot to drink her medicine? No...hallucinations or even any remote disembodied voices didn’t just magically show up without her taking medicine. Even before, she was fine without it.

But then she had to look up from her plate, and the woman almost fell out of her own chair; her late husband was sitting just across the table, smiling as he was eating on an invisible plate. He had a bit of a curious look in his eyes, but they were not aimed directly at Amélie in her chair. How was this even possible?

Distorted French emitted out of his mouth. It was hard to decipher, and even more so for Amélie to remember. Where was she in this? She had no recollection of this memory, or at least, not from what her disoriented and scattered memories suggested.

An apparition appeared just as Gérard turned his head upwards. It was...Amélie, but not the current one. It was a phantom that looked exactly like her just a little over eight years ago, when she was around Lena’s age. There was a certain seductiveness in her that she never expressed, even in private to her own husband. Gérard’s curious eyes shifted to a more surprised set, but it gradually eased into one of desire.

No. This was certainly not her, definitely if it’s what she thought this was. The woman started losing her appetite and her heart - despite being so slow already - had somehow managed to skip a beat. A memory was trying to recall itself, but this one in particular was vivid. Even before, the most vivid memory was simply a fragment; maybe a voice or a sliver of her daily life, but this? This was more of a complete memory, reliving an echo of times long passed.  
Their voices - or whatever they were speaking to each other about that night - echoed throughout the loft. Only Amélie could hear them as Emily disappeared back into her guest room for a bit, mostly to retrieve something. Lena wasn’t out yet, and Winston had been out cold from the eggnog from their little late night festivities last night.

**“...think I like this side of you.”** A thick French accent had said. It belonged to Gérard’s, that much Amélie could still remember back then. The apparition’s appearances became more visually crisp, and Gérard had his silly little mustache that he insisted he kept. As ridiculous as it was, he promised Amélie he’d let it grow into a beard or keep it clean-cut if she desired, but only after his duties were fulfilled and he was allowed to leave properly. People always said he reminded them of Gomez from the Addams Family, and he had planned to change that.

His hands searched the younger Amélie’s body, rubbing her sides up and down. **“Oh? Perhaps you would like to show me how much this side of me _excites_ you, then?”** Past-Amélie’s voice rang out. A soft, and alluring chuckle followed just before she kissed him, and rather passionately so. Whatever this sight was, it wasn’t pleasant for present-day Amélie to witness anymore.

Present-time Amélie clutched her armrests. She moved forward, almost as if to yell at the both of them, but she’d know she’d look insane if she did that. Even in a room full of emptiness, somebody in this household would definitely come check up on her. So, Amélie opted to remain silent.

The apparitions parted, and Past-Amélie raised her eyebrow, impishly smirking. _**“En veux-tu plus (Do you want more?)”**_  

Her question repeated once more. He laughed in response, and nodded.

**“Ouh...do I want _more_...? _Oui...beaucoup plus_ (Yes...much more).” **

He began lifting up the past-Frenchwoman’s shirt, revealing only a bra. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation to his actions, or even a remote sense that something was off. It hurt her, seeing her husband this way.

**“Take me, then.”** Her past-self had asserted, as she once again began passionately kissing her so-called _‘beloved’_ husband. Her arms reached down so she could successfully lift up his work-shirt with one hand, while the other worked on unbuttoning his pants. Amélie could not bear to witness this spectacle anymore.

Before long, slight moaning from both parties were heard, and it caused the woman to further avoid this mess. There was a hint of laughter, just before the younger woman whispered into Gérard’s ear.

**_“Je vous ferai sentir en vie (I’ll make you feel alive).”_ **

Present-Amélie turned away in shame. There was no more denying this. No, it was not a suppressed memory, but a forgotten one. She had remembered this horrible, horrible night. This had been the worst possible way to relive it all. It wasn’t even trying to be delicate. It was not even a hallucination, but a really screwed up memory. She remembered this was the night she lost him, and in more ways than one.

This was the night he chose somebody else.

Gérard had chosen her...Widowmaker. _Not_ Amélie. Not the love of his life whom he cherished dearly, and fought so hard to protect; Not the one who he called _‘best friend’_ all of his life. Not one who promised he’d never take advantage of, and only accepted it if he knew she wanted it. It was not Amélie, but an elaborate disguise crafted by Talon. A parting gift, as it were, hand-wrapped by Widowmaker herself to prove a statement. It was a cruel joke, saying that things were no longer in her control. Her husband had chosen the devil thinking Amélie was truly wanting him in that way that night.

 It was to ensure she lived in Hell for the rest of her life, knowing somebody she trusted everything with had given it all away. And for what? A night of mindless sex and revelry?

Lies. All of it was just fucking lies _._ She had thought her husband loved her, but it was not the case. It was a farce. Agonizing as it was, she understood now that it was just a cruel lie to cover up the bitter truth. Her heart ached in an invisible pain, realizing this was something she fell into.

The worst part was not remembering it, oh no. It was accepting the fact that she let it happen, because she and Widowmaker were one and the same...at least, in her eyes. She was no different from a cold-blooded and emotionally stripped assassin. It pained her so much, yet she could not cry. She couldn’t feel anything from being so numbed over the years.

But someone out there in the organization wanted her to forget. Whether it be that they knew, or simply, they didn’t want her to suffer anymore. After years and years of all of this agonizing pain, she had no more tears left to give. She had no more anger to fuel the fire.

There was just emptiness inside of her. It hurt to know that she couldn’t feel anything about it anymore. It made her feel less humane.

Her chair had creaked as Amélie scooted back, gradually registering all this information. She didn’t want to know why today of all days was to be the revelation she didn’t need, nor desire to see. All she knew was that even to this day, no matter how hard things were, it was just nothing but a lie. 

Their moaning became a lot more audible, and a mixed set of feelings conflicted within Amélie. She dared not look up again in fear that it’d paint a scarring picture, but at the same time she just had to know.

And what about those two nights ago? She faced a nightmare of Lena’s death, and the following night she believed she could have a family again. Was that a lie, too? Was Lena going to die one day? Would she be alone, left to slumber eternally while a remorseless killer controlled her very essence? That was going too deep into the worst case scenarios of this world, she thought. Amélie shook herself out of it, but...there was an even harder thought lingering in her head now.

If Gérard had fallen in love with somebody who he knew was not her, could Lena have done the same? Could she have loved somebody who intended to kill her the very moment she let her guard down, rather than love the real woman inside?

The thought roamed around in her head for a moment, preying upon her own self-confidence. There was no way Lena could betray her like that, and she was convinced it was so. But even then...she couldn’t help but have doubt. Was this life, too, just another lie she’d have to live? If it were, then nothing in the world would ever make sense anymore. Amélie lingered on it, and she wished she didn’t, as she felt her heart sink even lower now.

**“Amélie?”**

Her Cockney accent had startled the woman. She glanced up from her plate again as the apparitions faded away into the shadows, leaving absolutely no trace behind. Lena had loomed over her with a concerned expression, leaning in a little bit closer.  **“Everything alright? Ya look like ya just saw a ghost...or, or somethin’!”**

She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to explain to her all this in the morning, not now. The woman bit her lower lip again, but passed off a fake smile. **“I’m okay,”** she had replied, almost choking back any semblance of the guilt of lying. **“Just a bad thought.”**

Amélie stood up and picked up her plate with half-eaten bread and her herbal tea still filled to the brim.  **“Turns out I’m not as hungry as I think I am.”**

Rather than throw away perfectly good food, the woman placed it on a warming plate and took a sip of her tea before setting that on the hot plate too. It tasted a little less filling, now that she thought about it. Lena clasped her hands together and grinned.

**“Emmy’s waitin’ downstairs in the piano room for you to play some songs. Have you got any thought into ‘em yet?”**

Piano. Right, she had promised them since the third day she’d been meaning to play this. A list of perfectly good songs on the piano came into mind, though she at the time didn’t want to feel sad. But what better a way to express her emptiness now than to explain it in auditory form? It’s not like anybody would know...yet.

But even then, those apparitions were lingering faintly in her brain. She couldn’t keep this up if they returned in the middle of her session.

Normally a person would’ve simply turned away, but it was not something Amélie could reject again and again. Her attention turned back to Lena, and her head cocked to the side.  **“Are you coming?”** To which the Brit nodded once. 

**“Soon as I get breakfast! Y’know I can hear ya even from ‘ere, right?”**

Undoubtedly, she could. With nothing left to say, Amélie turned her body so she was now heading downstairs, and Emily was indeed waiting with her posture curled up on the couch. 

* * *

With a pencil in her hand, plenty of references opened up - but not obscuring the piano - and her easel, perhaps this might be where she could gain inspiration. There was, however, something that caught Amélie’s eye.

A box of chocolates sat neatly just right next to the freckled girl. It had been unwrapped, but there was a tag she couldn’t read. It was probably for Lena, or somebody else.

She was wrong about that. Emily looked up from her little doodle, smiled some, and picked up the box. Extending her arm outwards, she presented it to the woman with much pleasure in her eyes.  **“Thought you might’ve liked this.”**

Upon further examination, it was in fact a gift from Emily to Amélie. It was a box of Belgian chocolates, considering the fact Belgium made exceptionally good chocolate for what it was worth. For a moment, Amélie had no idea how to respond other than nod.

**“I feel kind of bad nobody gave you anything so...I just ran to the nearby chocolatier and asked if they had a box of these. Wasn’t too expensive, but it was still a modest price.”**

Humming, Amélie gently pushed back the box.  **“Put it in my room. I will collect it later. Now,”** She presented the piano with one hand, **“Shall we?”**

Nodding, Emily had encouraged her to go on. For a moment, Amélie had a warm smile as she sat down comfortably on the piano seat. Her cold hands brushed off a thin layer of dust that had settled on top of the piano coverings, and she lifted up the fall board, and a holo-display prompt opened up.

From a wide selection of classical songs to piano covers of olden day popular music, it had all types of potential greatness hidden inside. Amélie had searched the catalogue momentarily, eventually choosing Lights & Motion’s _‘Aural’_ to start off, just as a warm-up.

There, she tickled the ivories ever so delicately. Upon playing the first notes, a sense of pride enveloped the cold woman. For her, it was simply beautiful to hear a piano being played. Of the two people in the room, it seemed Emily was more encapsulated already. Though the song was slow, there was an ethereal aura to it, and it appeared that Amélie had been radiating a hidden glow.

The last time Amélie touched a piano was somewhere during a rehabilitation room in Gibraltar. Though reluctant - mainly on the part that Widowmaker’s countermeasures were to stop her at any cost - she fought and trudged through with newfound willpower. Alas, she had let her guard down, and collapsed after a few simple notes.

This time however, things would be much more different. She enjoyed reliving some nostalgia in her life, clinking away at the keynotes. There was a feeling of enjoyment to be had, as simple of a piano piece as it was. For a brief moment, Amélie felt a sense of freedom to be had, completely ignoring all the painful memories from earlier.

As the song concluded, Emily’s jaw slacked. **“Wow. That was uh...”** Emily was speechless. Maybe it was from the moment itself, but something truly, truly inspired her already.

**“Practice. I am not as good as I used to be.”**

**“You call _that_ practice? Jeez!”**

**“ _Oui (Yes)._ Just a simple warm-up for my fingers.”**

The woman spoke calmly, but her overall tone and pitch was warm and welcoming. She curled and uncurled her fingers, exhaling before smiling at Emily.

**“I can sing as well if you would like.”**

Was there no end to how talented Amélie was? Truly, she was something else. Emily gulped, a little unsure of what she wanted. Could she really sing? With a silky smooth voice as hers and given the fact she might’ve started remembering more and more of her memories, maybe.  With a reluctant nod from Emily, Amélie chuckled and thought up of a perfect song.

Her hands ran over the piano’s keynotes from left to right, just before Amélie heard footsteps go downstairs. Lena had entered into the room with a half-empty plate of her standard breakfast consisting of proteins. From eggs, slices of cured ham, beans, buttered toast, and all the like, Lena was getting all the stuff she needed. She acknowledged them simply by humming what seemed like a  _‘Hello’_ , but it was muffled by chewing, and occasional clinking of the fork on her plate.

Regardless, Amélie began playing some notes on the beginning of a song, trying to see if her memory could jog itself well enough to remember. Alas, it was not the case. If this were her years ago she could’ve remembered this song with ease. With the help of the holo-display, she had searched up proper notes and the lyrics to her song.

Swiftly studying the composition itself, Amélie replayed the notes to get a familiarity to it. Soon after, she began warming up her voice just a tad-bit. If anything, Amélie wasn’t that much of a professional singer. At best, she was a mezzo, according to some earlier times in her life where she tried to get confirmation about it with some of her musical friends. Awkward as it was, the woman’s pitch in terms of singing was vastly different in comparison to what she truly sounded like.

Her song of choice was London Grammar’s  _‘Truth Is a Beautiful Thing’_ , and though she could not capture the original singer’s vocal range, the least Amélie could have done was play the piano correctly. Somber and ever mournful, the song itself expressed a deep connection to Amélie’s past and present, but to any typical person unaware of the woman’s ordeals...it was just a song.

Graceful was the way to describe how Amélie looked, and it was evident by Emily, and a bit of Lena (but mostly Emily), she was just lost in the beauty of it all. From their angle, Amélie’s fingers captured her emotions almost perfectly; they ran over the ivory notes with precision, and a calm, yet sorrowful force behind it all.

Once again, Emily had been blown away whilst Lena was more than proud to watch and eat her food. She had already heard Amélie play numerous times, but the novelty stuck with her through and through. In the moment, her head glanced over to the entranced freckled girl. Lena giggled, and gave a subtle hint of  _‘I told you so!’_ in her expressions.

As all this had unfolded, there was no doubt Emily had found that lost piece of inspiration she had been looking for; all she needed was just a little push. Blinking and stammering, Emily tried to remember where she was, and almost let her reference photos slip away from her station. She blushed, feeling more embarrassed to the point where she didn’t expect such a powerful song.

**“O-oh...bloody hell...Um...”** she stuttered, **“L-Lena, you were right!”** Her focus diverted itself to the girl.  **“She’s _brilliant_!”**

Lena giggled again, chewing on her food and saying nothing else. Amélie clicked her tongue and smiled a warm smile. She had risen up from her piano seat for a brief moment to stretch. When she got there, her knees bent down while her head tilted ever so slightly to one side.

**“What else is on your mind for your inspiration?”**

Shaking her head, Emily insisted she didn’t need to hear anymore, lest she need to feel far beneath Amélie’s grandeur. Come to think of it, the session was only approximately seven or nine minutes already. Playing any composition is difficult as it was already, and to keep setting the bar higher and higher...might not be a good idea.

A few thuds came downstairs, and a furry - and groggy - gorilla made his way down to the room as well. He had seemed to be cleaning his glasses, but in general he looked as any simian would look from a decent night’s rest. Calmly, Winston had saluted all of them while all three girls in return casually waved.

**“Good morning. Nobody told me you’d be playing music this early.”**

Sitting down on the piano chair once more, Amélie played a few notes before shuffling her gaze over to Winston.

**“One more song. What would you like?”**

**“ _Hm..._ ” **Winston had pondered for a moment, before raising his index finger.  **“Beethoven’s _‘Für Elise’_?”  
**

Now that was a hard one. Well, ‘hard’ was an understatement. Für Elise was not something one pianist - let alone Amélie -  could play without any practice. With a headshake, she nervously exhaled.  **“Ah, you think too much of my talents. Try something else.”**

**“Oh! Uh...sorry. Let’s see here...”** Winston mumbled to himself.

He was pulling blanks at this point. He wasn’t fully awake just yet, so he had a fairly difficult time recalling most songs.

**“Passenger’s _‘Let Her Go’_!”** Lena cried out, giggling again. **“You can do it!”**

Shifting her gaze towards Winston, Amélie gave a nod of questioning towards him, and he nodded back in return, casually taking a seat right in-between the two Brits on the floor.

Flipping the holographic display to the right song, the woman also noticed it was slightly difficult to actually play this song. Then again, she did play Debussy’s  _‘Clair de Lune’_ at one point in her life multiple times, but that was absolutely no comparison.

Her eyes searched over to the couch where all three of them were waiting on her. Lena had given her a thumbs-up for acknowledgement, and she turned back to the piano’s ivory keys. Hovering over them, she played exactly one note, nodding once again.

Maybe one more song. Only because Lena wanted it so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm real sorry this took longer than anticipated. I had to split up this chapter into another one given the sheer word length. I also know I said this would be short but, change of plans can always occur.


	6. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie gets a haircut. The gift is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Chapter 5, basically.

From the look of things, the piano session went without a hitch. No apparitions appeared, no damned nothing interrupted Amélie. Though her piano sessions typically lasted longer, that was before the woman’s reconditioning phases. Those skills had long dulled from under-usage.

Winston, Lena, and Amélie finished up ‘Love, Hacktually’ to pass the time afterwards, but once the movie concluded, they all went their separate ways for the afternoon. Lena began exercising upstairs, Winston wrote some mail for the other Overwatch teammates - alive and dead, supposedly - and Emily, having chosen not to watch the movie, instead spent her time creating her art.

The freckled girl spent most of her time in Amélie’s room, riding on the inspiration she was given and seemingly proud of how far she’d gotten. Maybe, just maybe, that reference photo from last night could be used as a backdrop. It’d be beautiful if it were, and that’s exactly what Emily had in mind.

A knock on the door had disrupted her creative process momentarily. **“Come in!”** She turned to face the door as it opened, Amélie stepped in with a neutral look on her face. That expression changed to a more softer and warm expression when she saw what Emily had worked on so far.

**“So I see you were inspired, _oui (yes)_?”**

Nodding, Emily deliberately hid her canvas. **“Not ready yet, mate. Wouldn’t wanna ruin the surprise.”**

In return, Amélie chuckled, sitting down on the bed. Whatever it was, it must be very special. But, as things would turn out, Amélie shifted her gaze towards a photo resting neatly on the side-table. It was a picture of her and Gérard on their wedding day - the same photo Lena and her retrieved from the abandoned Estate in Annecy all those months ago.

She sighed, shuffling herself over just so she could put the portrait face-down. Emily leaned her head to the side, momentarily processing what was going on.

**“I want to ask you something.”**

Emily blinked a few times before her eyes darted. **“It’s uh...it’s for you.”**

**“For me?”**

**“The drawing. It’s dedicated to you. I mean, if that’s what you’re wondering, anyway!”**

This rather came out of left-field for Amélie, but, she raised an eyebrow and nodded. **“Well...not my question, but...”**

There was a slight blush of embarrassment from Emily as she bit her lip. **“Oh. Um...well...there goes the surprise!”** She lowered her head and let her bangs cover her shame. A soft _‘dammit’_ was overheard before Emily perked herself up again. **“Right! What’s the question?”**

**“By any chance...do you know how to give a haircut?”**

What an odd thing to ask, coming from Amélie. Well, considering all the local barber shops were closed, perhaps this wasn’t the worst question to ask somebody. But why Emily, of all people? Why couldn’t Lena do this or...hell, even a friend of Lena’s?

Amélie stared intently, awaiting her response, and Emily rolled her tongue to gloss over her teeth. Technically, she did take about two years of cosmetology as an undergrad, but that got her nowhere. After a few quick moments of consideration, she simply shrugged.

**“...Maybe. I’m not good with sharp objects.”**

**“Good enough.”** Amélie proceeded to stand up, removing her hair-band from her ponytail, and tossing it over to the side-counter, just perfectly on top of the downed photo from earlier. She had beckoned Emily to come with as her lengthy hair drooped down all the way to her lower back. Of course, Emily herself was a little bit more interested in why Amélie had picked her, and not somebody else. Nevertheless, she’d probably answer ‘I trust you’ or ‘You seemed like the one who could do it’. Something vague as a response was all Emily was probably thinking she’d get, so she let it go.

Above all else, she had no experience in this. She always practiced on wigs and they always came out a bit wonky, and the likelihood of her messing up hair would be higher than if she simply waited for an actual professional. Emily dropped her canvas and pencil on the bed, stumbling just a bit on the floor from prolonged sitting. She had exited out of the bedroom in time to see Amélie move herself towards Lena’s bathroom.

 **“Wait up!”** She had cried out, but Amélie was intent on getting there first. Just as Emily exited her guest room, Amélie turned a corner, leaving only her hair to be the last sight she caught.

When they did arrive, Emily had found the woman was neatly plopped onto a seat with scissors in her hands. She stared at a mirror, with an expression that matched what she was pondering. Reluctantly, Emily had walked in and was immediately presented with the pair of scissors in Amélie’s hands.

 **“I want you to do me a favor,”** Amélie had calmly began, **“cut my hair to a modest length.”**

She snipped air, and gently cast aside the scissors to the counter. **“I’m not the best at it, y’know. And besides...”** She chuckled a little bit at the thought. **“Does Lena know you want this?”**

Shaking her head, Amélie brushed some of her unkempt bangs behind her ears for the time being. **“I want it as a surprise. I’ve...got to be honest. I’ve not had a haircut in nearly eight years.”**

**“Couldn’t this wait ‘til tomorrow? Why _me_?”**

**“No. I want one today. I trust you.”**

Sighing, Emily figured as much. It was nice to be trusted with somebody’s personal favors, but not like this. If it was perhaps money for a haircut, she’d give it no problem. But for a direct haircut, that’s some really interwoven connections of trust. She was hesitant about it, and she darted her eyes around, ensuring this wasn’t a prank or anything.

**“How short are we talking about here? Couple inches? Half of your hair? Full on butch?”**

**“What is this ‘butch’ you speak of?”** Amélie questioned, parting a few strands of her bangs away.

Emily nervously grinned and laughed in response. **“Butch is like, stylish short hair. Something wild like Lena’s or, hell, Maifie Adams for a few years in her 2072 album, _‘Livin’ the Wyld Style_ ’. Or, better yet, Sakura Cheong.”**

For a moment, Amélie thought about it. She never had that short of hair in her life, but...she wasn’t prepared to sacrifice all that. Not yet, at least. The idea was cute, but to her she wanted something that invoked an earlier life, and most of her younger times consisted of having shoulder-length hair, or a little bit more.

 **“Ah, maybe just a little below shoulder-length if that is the case. Here,”** Amélie pulled down a holographic screen display to reveal a photo of her from a normal day, long before her reconditioning process. **“Something like this.”**

Amélie had been smiling a rather warm smile in the photo, but something about it seemed rather ominous. Regardless of whatever intent the photo had, it gave Emily the general idea of what she envisioned: A shorter ponytail, delicately fluffed up from the sides, and a noticeably elevated top-section. Overall, it seemed fairly clean and simplistic in style, and very fitting of Amélie.

So, half of her hair it was. Emily opened up the pair of scissors and grabbed a rather lengthy amount of hair. She hesitated, of course, and Amélie simply glanced at her through the mirror.

But then she pulled the pair of blades back, still ever so reluctant about this decision. Smacking her lips, she snipped air once more.  **“You’re _absolutely_ sure I’m the right person for this?”**

There was only a nod, and nothing more from the blue-skinned woman before her.

**“Right. Clothes off. Wouldn’t want hair on your blouse and trousers, would we?”**

Shrugging, Amélie gradually took off all of her clothing. She had intended to go get a quick shower afterwards, so this was probably thinking ahead of time. Her clothes eventually made their way to a laundry hamper nearby, and now Amélie was stark naked sitting on a little stool. Of course, Emily wasn’t phased. She’d already seen plenty of people naked in her life in anatomy practice lessons. The freckled girl took a deep breath, and opened up the shears again, and grabbed a fair portion of Amélie’s hair in another hand.

Snip.

In one gradual cut, a modest length of Amélie’s hair fell to the floor, and a bit on her lap. She brushed off any stray hair on the floor for later when she’d vacuum it up.

Amélie sat in silence as Emily did what she was asked. Bits of hair fell down, but it would be dealt with later. Despite Emily’s proclaimed ‘I can’t do this’ stance, she in fact could...with minor altercations. If anything, the biggest difference from the photo the woman had provided was that the bangs were lengthier than it should’ve been. Otherwise, all was good, and it wasn’t a complete disaster. Nothing was lopsided nor was it awkward on the eyes. Maybe for a touch-up, Amélie could go to a proper barber tomorrow if she desired.

 **“Well, did what I could. _Fucking A_...”** Emily contently chuckled, wiping off remnants of hair from the scissors.  **“There ya go. Could use your hair for a line of dark blue wigs.”**

Standing up from her stool, Amélie softly grinned in response. **“I don’t think people would like to hear a dead person for a decade has decided to donate their hair. Please remember that the world still isn’t aware I’m alive.”**

With a hand signal from Amélie, she gestured that Emily had fulfilled the favor. **“You are free to go finish up that drawing. Wash your hands, first.”**

**“Alright. I should get it done before the end of the night. How’s that sound?”**

Nodding, Amélie liked the sound of that. A complete drawing in one day was something she didn’t particularly see very often. With one last nod from the freckled girl, she left after wiping off her hands on a towel. There was a slight humming tune from Emily as well, but it was too indistinct to guess what it was, maybe a Christmas tune. Regardless, Amélie decided not to linger over it, turning the water valves in the shower to an appropriate amount of warmth. For the next few minutes, she simply spent her time with hair conditioner and shampoo, with random bits of hair falling down every now and then.

Just as Amélie had finished up her quick shower, she had opted to rather stand there, not wanting to dry herself off. Pressing her hands against the porcelain walls, she had her eyes closed, pondering what Lena would say.

Maybe she would like it, or at least that’s the best Amélie could hope for. Or, maybe the change was unjustified and ergo there wasn’t much of a reason other than ‘I need a new haircut’. For a moment, her mind wandered for a bit, feeling a tad bit relaxed. Amélie thought it might’ve been best to not soak in water for too long, so she swiftly snapped out of her little train of thought, cleaned the rest of her body up, and got out as soon as she possibly could.

Drying off her hair and changing herself into something more casual for dinner, she wanted to head out just as Lena began to head into the bathroom. Between the intersection, two opposing forces bumped the door that led nowhere.

 **“Oh! Is somebody in there?”** Lena called out, with hints of exhaustion in her voice from exercising.

A sinking feeling grasped at Amélie, for she wasn’t expecting Lena to come in already. Though the younger woman was persistent on getting inside the bathroom, her arm was firm and unmoving. Somewhere, she didn’t want Lena to see her hair right now.

**“It’s me, _chérie (dear)_. I was just about to go get dressed for tonight.”**

At Lena’s end of the door, she had let go and, embarrassingly, moved out of the way.  **“Door’s free now! Ya can move out!”**

Amélie had to think of something for Lena to do so she couldn’t see her new haircut. Naturally, a memory back when they had to share a room in Gibraltar came into mind. Of all the things in the world that Lena was cautious of, seeing another woman nude made her a bit skittish.

**“I’m naked. Close your eyes.”**

Immediately, Lena closed her eyes and pursed her lips.  **“Done. Lemme know when to open.”**

Emerging out of the bathroom swiftly, Amélie had lied about changing her clothes. In reality she already wore a grey button-up shirt and some black sweatpants that were clearly a bit oversized, even for her physique.

She pretended to go to her dresser to grab clothes, even so much as to open it up and ensure Lena heard it open up. She got nothing out, of course, but Amélie waited long enough, but the younger Brit before her was ever so patient. Lena looked real tense, closing her eyes and stiffening up her muscles just to invoke the ‘don’t move a muscle’ ordeal. It was cute, but any longer and Lena would probably grow suspicious.

**“Open.”**

Doing as she was told, Lena let her eyes open with a slight droop. They shot open wide when she took notice of Amélie’s new haircut. There was a bit of bumbling and other indistinct noises coming from Lena as she hid her face, visibly blushing alongside a muffled ‘bloody hell’ and something about being ‘really lucky’ being emitted from her mouth.

Amélie rolled her eyes, but she seemed to have gotten the message that Lena must’ve loved it. Reaching out, Amélie delicately pushed aside Lena’s hands so the Brit could admire her some more.

Now she was really red in her cheeks. Lena nervously swallowed, and only after a few moments did she remember why she came here.

 **“I gotta shower!”** She exclaimed, embarrassingly moving away from Amélie and zipping away into the bathroom. A sudden ‘clank’ was muffled by the door - now closed - and an even more muffled  _‘sod it’_ could be overheard.

While amusing, Amélie didn’t expect such a strong reaction from Lena over a simple haircut. Albeit, she really didn’t know what to expect at all; she probably assumed Lena would love it, but not as much as what just unfolded. Nevertheless, she still had to clean up her hair still lying on the floor mats in the bathroom.

Now where was that vacuum cleaner?

* * *

Time seemed to fly by fairly quick. Dinner came around and the four of them had scrambled together for their Christmas dinner. Things were...more quiet than normal, at least on Amélie’s end. Her thoughts had fuzzed up, having to come back sitting at this table.

While Emily and Lena were chatting away and Winston had been listening in politely, Amélie felt...disconnected. By instinct, she had tuned out of everything in the moment and only stared outward into the snow-covered London skies.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course, for Lena to be so caught up in talking with Emily. She was just so embarrassed to be glaring at Amélie and having to notice her new haircut - something she still couldn’t get over right now - and having a dumbfounded stare on her face.

Amélie didn’t have a clue how much time had passed; she didn’t feel like looking up at the clock. Her head lowered as she stared blankly at her lap. Obscured was the conversation behind held by the two Brits next to her.

She hadn’t a clue why she had to remember Gérard today. At first it simply just became awkward dreams of her husband luring her into death, but she refused to die. She refused to believe that it really was her husband, but that hallucination from earlier proved otherwise.

She began curling and uncurling her hands about two or three times before clenching them fully. These hands once strangled her beloved until he breathed no more. These hands once caressed his rugged cheeks after a few months of being away from each other. What a wicked game Talon played on her.

Then Amélie felt a warm presence in the form of an index finger prod her cheek.

**“Luv?”**

Her head raised itself back up again as her eyes made contact with Lena’s.

 **“You still with us?”** Lena tilted her head, asking.

That same shade of paleness from Amélie’s skin was showing again. Lena had known by now something was off, just based on how much Amélie was avoiding things today.

**“I’m fine. Just...thinking.”**

Amélie put on a fake smile and began resuming eating her meal again. She only nodded and brushed off the notion something was wrong, even if it meant lying to Lena about it.

Against her better judgement, Lena went along with it again. Later tonight she’d have a discussion about it with her in private, and then give her gift to her. She didn’t like that something felt dreadfully off, but she couldn’t do much about it right now, in front of everyone.

Lena’s conversation with Emily had stopped after a while and the rest of the dinner went on without anything exciting to talk about. This wasn’t how Christmas was supposed to go down; even more so was the fact Amélie wasn’t this silent yesterday night. Though jokes were passed around the table by Winston, it didn’t change the mood all that much.

What did change was after dinner, as it was to conclude with an opening of presents. Amélie thus far only received a box of chocolates, and the rest of the group received some pretty fun stuff. Emily had gotten a game of Telestrations and Telestrations After Dark, Lena had received a new pair of crocs (on top of the endless mound she already had), and Winston got a model rocket ship that could interchangeably recreate itself into any previous ones before.

A seemingly quiet night changed into something of a comedic game of shenanigans, what with the four of them playing Telestrations. Each of them were tasked to draw a birthday cake, a whale, a Venus Flytrap, and a wallflower. After 60 seconds, all of them swapped pictures and guessed what the image was. 

 **“...What in the bloody hell?”** Emily tilted her head, confused at what in the world Lena had drawn.

 **“Only got 60 seconds! Can’t blame me for that one.”** Lena had protested. Her picture was what looked like a round circle without anything on top, and everything else was intricate around the sides. It looked like a drum.  **“Oi, Amélie. This what I think it is?”**

Shrugging, Amélie wasn’t allowed to tell her what it was.  **“ _Je ne sais pas (I don’t know)._ Winston drew something that looked like something he would eat.”**

 **“Hey, not true!”** Winston retorted, before momentarily shifting his gaze back to Emily’s drawing in his possession. It looked like a man who got stuck in a wall before the paint dried. Even with the freckled Brit’s drawing skills, this was some shoddy workmanship. Blame the 60 seconds.

After several more rounds featuring a large amount of misunderstandings - a common part of the game itself - and genuine laughter from all four of them, they spent several minutes total debating each and every shift in the drawing pads. By the end of it, they had gotten a picture of a gangster, a bumblebee, a band of instruments, and the Moon Landing.

The hour was late, but Emily was determined to win her side of the argument that her illustrations were simple enough. Hell, there were even arrows pointing at the certain objects and people seemed to miss it, but Lena wouldn’t have any of it. She giggled every few words, because somehow ‘gangster’ emerged from drawing a fairly detailed photo of Harrison Ford as Han Solo, though she did calm down eventually.

 **“Well we botched that, _didn’t we_?”** Emily cried out, holding her drawings up.  **“Look at this!”** She shoved the pictures towards Lena’s face. **“Sod it all, mate, a wallflower was the _simplest_ thing and _nobody got it_!”**

**“It’s not your fault, I mean...ya did get put on the spot! Ain’t used to workin’ under pressure, no biggie!”**

While the two Brits had a friendly argument, Amélie’s fatigue started to show again. She was the first to go get some rest, and Winston began erasing his own Telestrations board to put away. If she had more time, Lena would totally have gone on longer for teasing Emily over trying to draw a wallflower in 60 seconds. But, she had to go. She still had Amélie’s problem to deal with.

**“Listen, Emmy. We’ll talk more ‘bout this over breakfast, yeah?”**

With a reluctant nod and an exhaustive sigh, Emily hopped out of her chair leaving her Telestrations pad where it was, and Winston waved both of them good night, heading off in his own guest room.

* * *

The door shut behind Lena as she entered into a dimly lit bedroom. Amélie had already prepared herself to go sleep off today and her troubles. At least, until Lena came in. Then she remembered she still had a gift ready, whatever it may be. Her sweatpants were already thrown somewhere else; Amélie didn’t feel like wearing them tonight, the room was warm enough already.

Amélie’s eyes had a sense of deep sorrow laden within them, having her burst of joy crumble down into sadness. Any hint of happiness today wasn’t there, nor any sense of any other emotion aside from her wistful expressions. She quietly observed Lena with her eyes, running them up and down to check for any signs of a present. Nothing seemed to indicate it.

Only the sounds of slight shuffling around the loft and the gentle, soft hum of Lena’s accelerator hummed in the night. By then, the Brit had dashed into Amélie’s arms, embracing her. They said nothing for a while, and it was a tid-bit hard for Lena to form words to put it delicately. Amélie figured that maybe her ruse was up. She had proceeded to go sit down on the bed, prompting Lena to sit on her lap.

Amélie smiled briefly, feeling the warmth that Lena had provided her on top of the harness. She wanted to kiss her and simply let things go, but that’d be stepping on their trust.

 **“You’re probably wondering, aren’t you.”** Amélie muttered into Lena’s ear.

 **“...It’s Gérard again, innit?”**  Lena replied back, her tone filled with concern. To her, Gérard had loved his wife, but something deep inside her suggested that tonight, this was not the case.

Humming, Amélie scooted in a bit further on their bed.  **“I...want to start off by saying that these past few months,** ” She began, maintaining eye-contact with the smaller Brit,  **“they were wonderful. I enjoyed...laughing. And smiling. Being human again.”**

Despite feeling so empty and hollow since the morning over her new-found horrific memory, Amélie felt like breaking down right then and there in bed, but at the same time she wanted to keep up her semi-positive attitude. Somewhere, a deep part of her wanted to truly feel a sense of pain from crying, or at least spilling tears; yet as much as her heart stung like a thousand needles, she couldn’t. Lena wanted to speak up, but Amélie cut her off.

**“But I don’t deserve it, do I...?”**

A part of Lena wanted to cut back in again, but that might’ve not have been the best idea to interrupt the woman before her.

**“I remembered something I really shouldn’t have. It’s...it’s not the first time I remembered it either.”**

Her nod had given a small pang of pain in Lena’s heart. Today was supposed to be a happy day; the day where being part of a family and not spending a single moment alone was meant to be the spirit of things. Yet, to Amélie, she felt like she could not join them. People would’ve freaked out if they saw her, or worse figure out she is a major factor in the discourse of the world.

Amélie had no choice but to face her fears tonight. She told herself that if not tonight, then she would never know the truth about Lena’s intentions. If not tonight, then never any other night would she want to ask. Her gaze was now upon Lena herself, who had inched a few feet backward to give her some space. **“Nobody told me. They wanted me to forget.”**

 **“...But ya couldn’t.”** Lena whispered, now fearing the dread of Amélie’s words.

The woman paused, trying to collect herself and keep things together. With a nod, she looked down and stifled back what seemed like a hint of silent weeping. **“I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why _she_ wanted me _not_ to remember.”**

Her head lowered, now feeling bitter sorrow. **“How could I forget that my _own husband_ fucked somebody who he thought was _me_?”**

She scoffed, turning the other cheek. Now a part of her really, really wanted to cry, but still, there was nothing. Lena proceeded to trail her hand over to caress Amélie’s cheek, double checking to make sure there were any tears. Surprisingly - and most shocking to her - there weren’t any. At least, not now. There wasn’t anything to smile at, so Lena did no such thing. For a moment, the woman had felt a little bit better about herself, feeling her lover’s soft and warm fingers touch her icy skin.

But it was not to last. Amélie lifted up her own hand and gently let down Lena’s own. With a deep breath, she recollected her already scattered thoughts, listening only to the accelerator from the girl’s chest whirring away. The cyan-colored light illuminated the two girls in bed, but at any given point Lena would have to plug it into a charging station at some point.

Amélie couldn’t bear to face her guilt. It was even harder to confront Lena and say it, telling her the real reason of why Gérard died. She pursed her blue lips, turning her cheek away. It ruined her if she were to speak of this and look at her lover in the same way.

 **“...Out of sheer anger and bitterness, the Widow let me have control of myself again.”** She paused, having remembered that horrid night, **“After he had his fill of me and threw me away for the night, I suffocated the man I loved before brutally ending his life.”**

The look Lena had was not of fear, not of anything remotely afraid of her. It was more of the same sorrow Amélie had in her own eyes. She had restrained herself again, but something deep in her pushed on, listening even more.

**“It was the first time I had killed. Then...I just felt regret. Nothing but _emptiness_ in me. And then...I felt tired. Just so tired. I slept, hoping I’d wake up. And I kept having nightmares over and over...”**

Amélie shook her head in denial, but in reality there was no denying it. She could feel just a few trickles of hot tears run down her cheeks. **“But they weren’t nightmares...they were real. All of it was real, and I...”**

She tripped over her words. She wanted to say ‘committed atrocities’ but...she could only wonder and want an honest explanation of things. She wanted to give Lena all of her love, but the final question had lingered in her head. If Gérard was easily fooled, could Lena have fallen into the same trap? The woman pushed Lena away, but kept the smaller Brit in her hands, nervously swallowing.

 **“With this revelation came another dark thought, Lena... If my own husband fell for her...did you, too?”** She had asked, her voice a little weary. Amélie sniffled, and no more tears ran down. Albeit brief, it was as close as expressing sadness as she could get, even though two nights ago she nearly cried enough as it already was. Instinctively, Lena had shaken her head the moment she heard those words.

**“Listen to me.”**

Her nose scrunched up, and her eyes were fierce. She laid her two free hands on Amélie’s shoulders and looked at her dead in the eye.

 **“ _No_. I would know the difference. You know that I love you and not that murderer. Look,”** Lena paused briefly, pulling out her holophone and flipping open up a collection of photos. **“You see this? This is from our trip in Annecy.”**

The images hovered, but Amélie could see them in full view. A good majority of them seemed to be just pictures of her grinning, looking awkward, blurry, or otherwise like any other normal human being. There was a soulful expression laden in her golden gaze, and not one of a hollow and sadistic killer.

**“Who is this? Who’s smiling in those pictures? _Not_ Widowmaker.”**

Those photos began minimizing back into Lena’s phone, and she held onto Amélie a little tighter.  **“I would’ve never have taken anythin’ if I knew it wasn’t you. _Never_. Not in a million years. Not if Talon put a _gun_ at my head.”**

By then, Lena had begun to play it cool. She moved her warm fingers upwards and around Amélie’s neck, pulling her in so they could touch foreheads. For this moment alone, the much smaller Brit wanted Amélie to let the words sink in.

**“And if she’s listening in? She needs to know I’m _not_ afraid of her. I will _never_ be afraid of her. She should be afraid of _me_ , because I’m the one thing standing between Widowmaker...and you.”**

That was Lena’s proclamation. Their conversation quietly shut itself down while the two intently stared at each other. Amélie’s saddened expression gradually faded, but not into a blank one. It was one of hope, and the return of her happiness. She smiled - for now, she had a reason to - and took a deep, yet shaky sigh.

She looked up, after thinking some things through.  **“How do you do it?”**

**“Do what, exactly?”**

**“How are you never depressed about anything?”**

There was a chuckle, and Lena tilted her head, cracking open a small grin.  **“What makes you think I’m not?”**

**“Well...you always smile and make others laugh and I thought, maybe --”**

Lena had shaken her head. **“Just ‘cause somebody’s smilin’ outside doesn’t mean they aren’t hurtin’ on the inside, luv. I just try not to let the pain get to me.”**

Really, Amélie should’ve taken a look at herself. She had falsely smiled most of the day today, yet she was hurting real bad. This time, however, her smile was genuine. She looked back up at Lena again.

 **“We could talk ‘bout this all night, but I think this week’s been dreadful enough.”** Lena said, wrapping her arms around Amélie again, stroking her back for reassurance.  **“I just want you to be happy. With me, and everythin’ I try to do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there.”**

There was always something Lena did right in Amélie’s perspective. She’d always say the right things, or simply convince her everything was going to be alright. Even if it seemed shoddy, Lena’s tone had the most impact to it; there would never be a hint of doubt coming out of her lips. 

**“One more question, _chérie (dear)_.” ** Amélie calmly spoke.

 **“Anythin’ for you.”** Lena replied back, her grin reassuring the woman.

**“What is my Christmas present?”**

Lena grew a bit flushed as she bit her lower lip. **“It’s uh...I dunno if it’s that appropriate considering our topic earlier.”** She grinned, and nervously scratched her head. **“I-I mean...only if you wanna. It’s...”**

It didn’t take long for Amélie to catch on with what Lena had intended. She too had a sudden feeling of embarrassment from it. Though she initially felt nothing, there was a slight...tingling sensation. It was a sensation that she hadn’t felt in a long, long while. Something in her heart became excited at the thought, and it even showed; Amélie’s cheeks grew a smidgen purple from the implications of it all.

 **“I mean...I really wanted ya to be happy an’ all and to forget ‘bout the past. Again, only if you wanna. It’s no rush!”** Lena had insisted.

Amélie had an impish smirk as she raised her eyebrow. This was to be her gift for the evening, then? It seemed so...her. So ‘Lena Oxton’, in a way. So cheesy, yet...something bold, and daring.

 **“I want to.”** Amélie reached up to undo the harness’ straps. Promptly, she began softly pecking at Lena’s lips with her impish smirk turning into a warm smile she always shared with others.

Nervously swallowing, the Brit really wasn’t expecting to dive into it that quick. **“Wait.”** Lena softly muttered, defensively grabbing onto Amélie’s arms.

The woman had proceeded to stop, letting her hands slip down the sleek device. Not a single notch was untied, though she knew how to take it off. Amélie tilted her head to the side, questioning if it was perhaps the pressure. Or maybe it was Lena’s first time?

Seemingly flustered, Lena took a few swift - yet sharp - breaths, muttering something about _‘being able to do this’_. Indeed, it was definitely her first time, especially with another woman. All it did so far was make Amélie laugh.

 **“First time, then?”** Amélie teased, **“Well...first time for everything.”**

This, of course, made Lena even more flustered. She had quickly devolved into a bit of a mess, despite all that bravery being displayed prior to a more touchy conversation. Luckily for Lena, Amélie definitely had experience from this. Not from a man, oh no, but from her inexperienced college days. It was just a little bit of experimentation, but it seemingly proved more effective. Never in her life did she think it’d be handy. With one final self-motivating word of advice, Lena clenched her fists, gave a strong nod, and immediately dropped her flustered attitude.

**“Right. Just hope I don’t mess this up.”**

Surely there wouldn’t be a way to mess up. There shouldn’t be, at any rate. Amélie once again reached for the harness straps, and slowly began loosening them up. Lena in return had ensured she wouldn’t interrupt the process, but she would be the one to take the accelerator to its charging station.

All the straps were loosened up, and Lena slipped off her harness, with the accelerator sliding all the way down to the mattress. Picking it up, she placed it on the charging stand over in the corner and came back, nervously swallowing.

Just like that, Amélie made the first move, as Lena was hesitant. She moved in to press her lips against the Brit’s own. Slowly - and sensually - her hands trailed themselves all the way around Lena’s small body as Amélie pulled her into an amorous embrace.

She didn’t pull away, only repeatedly coming back for more over and over again. A part of her truly wanted this to unfold, and an even smaller part never wanted it to end. Lena on the other hand hadn’t a clue where to start, and thus she simply...moved her hands around, slowly up and down Amélie’s waist and let things happen.

What started out as sensual quickly became more intense. The two girls were now in a position where Amélie had laid on her back, and Lena was right between her slender legs. The woman had even removed her hair-band so that her long and wispy hair were more free, and it was no longer in a ponytail.

There was a burning passion somewhere buried in Amélie’s gaze. That tingling sensation grew within her, and suddenly she could feel Lena’s soft, warm hands try to unbutton her shirt. She let the young Brit do as she pleased, chuckling at the moment to herself.

 **“What’s so funny?”** Lena whispered, having undone the last button. She folded open a portion of the shirt so Amélie’s breasts became exposed. She simply...glanced at the Brit observing her, and how cute she looked being so flustered.

Though Lena never noticed it until now, and despite the times she had seen the blue-skinned woman naked, she never took the time to closely examine her in this way. Truth be told, Amélie had quite the athletic build. It was barely visible, but she had a bit of a 6-pack, or at least the outline of it. She felt incredibly nervous, but at the same time felt inclined to touch them.

There were, however, noticeable scars laden around Amélie’s skin. Long slits from knives, the little bruises from her physical torture, and a various amount of bullet holes rested upon various spots. What stories they had to tell, Lena would never know, unless she asked. She had felt compelled, also, to go ahead and trace her index finger on a little scar on Amélie’s abdominal area.

Amélie felt a bit teased, supporting herself on her elbows. **“It’s an expression I remembered,”** She began, trying to think up on how to deliver it, **”The French invented it.”**

Curiously, Lena cocked her head to the side. **“That so? Tell me ‘bout it, then?”**

In response, Amélie snickered, and pursed her lips. **“A brief loss of consciousness likened to death, as they considered it --”**

 **“W-wait! Nobody said anythin’ about dyin’ here!”** The girl had interrupted, but she was silenced almost immediately by the index finger of Amélie pressing against her lips.

**“ _Non (No)_. In modern terms, _chérie_...it is more commonly used to describe the euphoric sensation of an orgasm.”**

Upon hearing those words, Lena’s cheeks grew a deep red. She started squealing, but Amélie laughed a bit hard at how it sounded in her ears. It seemed so adorable to her, considering this was perhaps the first time she’s seen Lena fairly vulnerable. Nonetheless, she continued on.

**“They called it, _‘la petite mort’_. The little death.”**

Awkwardly, there was silence between them after Amélie spoke. However, it wouldn’t last particularly too long. Lena calmed herself down, having stopped her squealing, and giggled at the thought.  **“That’s a bit ironic, y’know. Killin’ time an’ all that...”**

Her hands moved over to Lena’s sides, and she was rather amused. Quickly - and unexpectedly for Lena - their positions in bed got reversed as Amélie rose up from her spot, and shifted both of them around. Now, it was the smaller Brit laying down and the cold woman on top. As she loomed over Lena, her hand brushed itself just under Lena’s shirt.

Then, she began gradually lifting it up, but only until Lena’s chest was exposed, and even then she wore a bra underneath it all. In comparison to Amélie’s own skin, hers was much more delicate, and fairly untouched. The woman gave a warm smile, grabbing one of Lena’s arms. She held it against her cheek, just before she began kissing that arm, and trailing herself downwards to Lena’s stomach. Every step of the way, her lips pressed up against Lena’s smooth and soft skin, only for her to respond in soft moans and little shivers.

Lena could feel her pants being pulled down in the process, and then her bra being undone. All that was left - and she proceeded to take it off herself - was her orange shirt, to which she casually threw over the headboard. Much like Amélie before her, all she was left now were a pair of panties. The only difference was that Amélie kept her shirt with her.

Her face once again felt real hot, and Amélie’s gaze upon her became something fierce, and lustful. Lena could feel herself being picked up, and then felt mildly cold lips press against hers once again. In response, Lena swung her hands around Amélie, holding onto her ever so tightly. She pulled away, just for the last time tonight.

**“...Be gentle with me. And...slow.”**

There was a nod from Amélie and she chuckled. **“Of course, _mon amour (my love)_. As slow as you and I want to go.”**

Beyond that point, there was no more words to be spoken. Amélie moved herself down towards Lena’s neck and began planting kisses there, gradually moving downwards all the way until she reached Lena’s stomach.

All she really wanted right now was this girl before her, and nobody else. If this was her gift tonight, she wanted to make sure she’d revel in all of its glory. She wanted to just simply forget she was in pain, and divert her attention into what mattered to her. 

Tonight was hers, and hers alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the end...?


End file.
